Romulan Roulette
by whoa nellie
Summary: A diplomatic mission takes an unforeseen detour.


Title: Romulan Roulette

Author: Whoa Nellie

Series: TNG

Codes: P/V

Summary: A diplomatic mission takes an unforeseen detour. This story was originally posted to ASC June 24, 2009.

As always: Paramount owns all the marbles. We just have a lot more fun playing with them.

Feedback is always appreciated, posted or e-mail.

Romulan Roulette

"Jean-Luc, knock it off," Vash grumbled, her insides turning upside-down for the third time in the past five minutes. The Kirk's inertial dampers struggled to keep up with the acrobatic maneuvers that the ship was performing.

"Tag-along stowaways don't usually carp so audaciously about the pilot's expertise," Captain Jean-Luc Picard admonished good-naturedly. He relished the chance to fly the Kirk. When using the impulse drive, the distinctive controls increased the Delta Flyer-class shuttle's responsiveness, which allowed the pilot much more control. At the moment, he was enjoying himself immensely; although, the actual purpose of this trip was for him to meet with the new Romulan government to discuss the deep space mission to the Delta quadrant and the possibility of Romulan involvement as well as the opening of Romulan space to Federation exploration.

"I didn't stowaway – well not exactly. I'm not about to let you out of my sight after what happened the last time you went without me to meet with Romulans. Besides, the Romulan archaeologist charged with taking care of the Praetor's Fasces wanted to meet with me to discuss the findings of the research I conducted while the artifact was in my care." She looked over at her husband sitting at the conn. "Moreover, I'm well aware of your expertise as a pilot, which makes this audacious display of male prowess really unnecessary."

A quote by Nietzsche that she had used to describe him on occasion came to Picard's mind. "There are two things a real man loves -- danger and play."

"Well then, why don't you lay in the course, go to warp, come back here and display your male prowess with the most dangerous of your playthings?" she offered in her finest sex-kitten voice.

"I have a better idea. Before we go to warp why don't you come up here for a flying lesson?" he bantered back. As she made her way up to join him he noticed the tan, cable-knit sweater that hung to her hips and matching leggings she wore. The tan sweater was, in fact, his. There was something utterly adorable in the way she so nonchalantly appropriated his belongings for her own use. "With all of the new clothes in your closet, most of which are couture, why are you raiding my closet?"

"It was comfortable and we have a good fifteen hours before we even reach the Romulan Neutral Zone," she started to explain but that last part of the explanation triggered a mental detour. "Are they still going to call it that?" She perched on his lap careful not to bump any of the shuttle's controls. The notion of cavorting in the pilot's chair had definitely piqued her interest.

He slid out from beneath her and stood next to her. "As far as I know there are no plans to change the status of the Neutral Zone. Of course, those are political decisions and a little above my pay grade."

Finding herself alone in the pilot's chair, Vash looked up at Jean-Luc through her lashes and gave him her most sensuous pout. "Damn, I thought that was an innuendo. You're actually talking about a flying lesson."

Tenderly running his fingers through her hair, he brushed the silky brunette locks aside before leaning down to reach around her and guide her hands on the controls. With his face next to hers, he drank in the softly-scented combination of roses, violets, and lavender of her favorite perfume while resisting the urge to place a kiss or two on pulse point below her ear. "Remember, this controls the pitch, rotating the shuttle around its lateral axis."

Vash found herself falling under the soothing spell of Jean-Luc's rich, gentle baritone next to her ear. The warmth of his embrace seeped through the sweater with his strong arms around her and his larger hands covering hers on the controls. She forced herself to focus on the matter at hand. "Up and down – and yes I know there is no up or down in space – so we'll just say toward my head or toward my toes."

"Correct," he chuckled softly, before sliding one of her hands to another mechanism. "This controls the yaw, rotating the shuttle around its vertical axis."

With his hand directing hers over the controls, she observed, "this way and that way."

"Uh-huh," he murmured approvingly unable to ignore the way the cable-knit of the sweater followed the feminine curves of her body rising and falling with each breath she took. Again moving their hands, he continued on with the lesson, "This controls the roll, rotating the shuttle around its longitudinal axis."

She playfully noted, "those barrel rolls you so enjoy doing."

"That might not be the best maneuver to start off with. Instead, let's try a nice gentle bank to the starboard side." His hands now lightly rested on hers allowing her to manipulate the controls. He guided her through some basic maneuvers, each one building on the next. Blood rushed through Picard watching her tackle each new obstacle he presented her with. It was her scintillating intellect combined with her vivacious zeal for life's challenges that excited him beyond measure.

The shuttle lurched clumsily. Her tongue darted out of its own volition, to moisten her lips. "Is this how to compensate for that?"

He nodded and coached her, "Don't be so tentative. Make sure you keep a firm but relaxed grip, your movements need to be assured and smooth. That's it, nice and easy."

Intending to tease him about the possible dual nature of his words, she turned her face toward him at the exact moment he turned to face her. Suddenly, their mouths and what started out as an accidental meeting instantly became fiercely impassioned when their always incendiary chemistry took over. His hands tightened over hers, holding the ship steady while their tongues danced, swirling and stroking each other in a sensual tango.

Breaking off the kiss, he rasped, "I take it we're finished here."

She brushed feathery kisses along his strong jawline and purred, "oh no, baby, we're just getting started."

"Then I need in the chair," he prompted, the warmth of her lush lips along his jaw beginning to wreak havoc on his senses. All he had to do was lay in the course, go to warp and they could go make themselves comfortable in the sleeping compartment of the shuttle. She gracefully slid out of the chair allowing him to retake the conn. Once he had settled himself back into the pilot's chair, she threw one of her long legs over his and straddled his lap forcing him to reach around her to take the controls.

"So, are you in the mood to handle trouble?" With her gaze focusing on the firm set of his mouth, she sensuously ran her index finger over his bottom lip.

Kissing her finger, he entreated, "Behave yourself long enough for me to get us into warp."

"I promise to behave myself -- once we reach Romulus," she offered breathlessly. Leaning in, she closed her eyes and nibbled on his neck just above his uniform tunic. The clean, masculine scent of his aftershave was as strong of an aphrodisiac as the most erotic Risan delicacy.

"So, that's how you want to play this. All right, let the games begin, ma petite." A hint of amusement tinged his bedroom baritone. His mouth found and seized hers in another deep kiss, swallowing her squeal of surprise when he threw the shuttle into three successive barrel rolls. He took great satisfaction in feeling her small hands tightly clutch the fabric of his uniform jacket in response to the slight but perceptual lag in the ship's inertial dampers. He pulled out of the final roll and broke off the kiss.

"There's nothing like pushing the envelope," she cooed.

……………………………………

"We've just entered Romulan space," Picard announced from his position at the conn. He heard Vash enter the forward compartment. "Did you sleep well, chere?"

"Yes; so well, in fact, that I wasn't even aware that you had gotten up," she replied.

"I made sure not to disturb you. I wanted to be at the conn when we reached the neutral zone." He glanced over his shoulder at her expecting to find her dressed for a diplomatic reception and instead finding her clothed in her field gear. Even dressed in a khaki work shirt and pants, she managed to appear enchanting. "My, don't you look archaeological."

Vash couldn't keep the excitement from her voice. "The head of the Romulan Ministry of Antiquity offered me a tour of their most important archaeological sites when we arrive which will make me the first Federation scientist to actually visit some of those sites."

He playfully baited her. "More importantly--while on an official visit by invitation."

"Jean-Luc, even I'm not outrageous enough to attempt to sneak onto Romulus uninvited. Someone would have to be out of their mind to try that," she countered impishly. Suddenly, she was almost knocked off her feet from the impact of an explosion against the shields rocking the ship violently. Struggling to her seat and strapping herself in, she yelled over the now-blaring red alert claxon, "What the hell was that?"

"Disrupter blast," he shouted back while simultaneously checking readouts and effecting evasive maneuvers. "The first shot took out our warp drive and we have a warbird decloaked off the starboard bow with all of her weapons fully armed."

"I thought we were all supposed to be pals now," she hollered.

"Obviously someone didn't get the memo. Can you reach over and shut that damn thing off for me?" he asked at the top of his voice narrowly avoiding two more blasts. Once the claxon fell silent, his voice returned to a normal volume, "thank you."

"You're welcome," she replied. Another explosion shook the small ship and Vash dug her fingers into the arms of her chair. "Remans?"

"Most likely; however, with you in tow, I'm not inclined to stick around and find out," he remarked off handedly.

"Which would lead one to believe that if I wasn't 'in tow,' you'd actually stick around to try to find out. I'll make a mental note that your sense of self-preservation seems to be directly linked to my proximity," she chastised sharply.

"Since I'm a little busy at the moment, chere, that particular topic of conversation will have to wait." He guided the flyer on a wild zig-zag course to avoid being hit while returning fire. "The fourth planet in this next system is an uninhabited M class planet. The atmosphere of the planet creates severe electromagnetic storms which will interfere with the warbird's sensors and transporters."

"Making it a perfect hiding place – and you knew it was there."

He winced as another disrupter blast hit too close to the ship for comfort. The planet was now in visual range. They were almost there. "I made sure to be aware of potential 'safe harbors,' so to speak, along our course from the neutral zone to Romulus. Any port in a storm."

"By 'safe harbor' you mean hiding spot," she surmised. "Johnny, I'm impressed. You would have made one hell of a pirate."

Several more blasts buffeted the Kirk. The last hit was followed by several secondary explosions along with a multitude of panels flashing red in an attempt to attract Picard's attention. "Merde."

"That can't be good," she muttered.

"We've lost aft shields and the starboard impulse engine along with the long range communications array and the forward landing gear. The atmospheric speedbrakes are questionable." Preparing to enter the planet's stormy atmosphere with the warbird in close pursuit, Picard advised his wife grimly. "We're going in hot. Hang on. What is it you like to say -- this is where the fun begins."

"Dear God . . ." Vash knew it would be nearly impossible for even the most skilled pilot to successfully land the shuttle under these conditions. Their only hope of survival lay in the fact that her husband was the best of the best. Clutching her chair arm until her knuckles turned white, she gazed up at the ceiling taking several deep breaths to try and calm her racing pulse. The resistance from the atmosphere became more intense, creating a bright heat outside the windows. At the mercy of the planet's gravitational forces, the small ship pitched and spun wildly plummeting toward the surface. Unwilling to watch Jean-Luc struggle with the controls, she closed her eyes tightly softly murmuring to herself, "Draylan, Masaka, Korgano, Blessed Exchequer, Kosst Amojan, Four Deities, Kahless . . ." The shattering thud of the Kirk hitting the ground interrupted her desperate petitioning. As the Kirk careened in an interminable, jarring skid along the bumpy terrain, she desperately searched her memory, "damn it, what was the name of that Hur'q deity again?"

Once the Kirk came to a stop, Picard left the pilot's chair to check on Vash. He was relieved to find his wife seemingly uninjured, tightly clutching the arms of her chair, her eyes closed, quietly muttering to herself. He knelt down in front of her chair. "If you'd like pause briefly in your litany of deities to open your eyes, you'll find I've managed to land us safely."

"A little help never hurts and with all I've seen in my many travels through the universe, I firmly believe in a divine power. I'm only unsure of the correct name." She opened her eyes and released her death grip on the arms of her chair. Flexing the soreness out of her fingers, she observed, "You've spent too much time with Chakotay because that was a controlled crash -- not a landing."

Smiling at her characteristic style of covering all her bases, he gently laid a hand on her shoulder. "If you're all right, I really need to ascertain the damage to the ship."

"Go ahead, I'm fine," she assured him. "I'll head to the aft compartments and begin working back there."

Helping her from her chair, he placed a kiss on her cheek before watching her head off to the rear of the ship. He turned his attention to what was left of the conn. Lying on his back in the cockpit, Picard wedged himself beneath the consoles making up the conn station to begin determining the damage and affect repairs to the conn itself. It was not a pretty situation. In fact, the longer he was down there the more damage he found. The situation just became uglier and uglier. Just as he reached up to wearily rub the bridge of his nose a loud blast reverberated through the ship. He knew the dorsal escape hatch had been blown and they were being boarded. Sliding out from beneath the conn, he swiftly stood only to be stopped in his tracks by the three-pronged muzzle of a Reman disrupter rifle pointed at his chest. The captain found himself cornered in the small ship's cockpit facing three Reman soldiers. With the habitual tug on the hem of his jacket, he squared his shoulders. His powerful voice resonated with authority, "Who are you and what do you want?"

The foremost Reman spoke, "After all those hours together, Captain Picard, I thought you'd recognize me."

Picard's attention now focused on the individual Reman. "Your were one of the Reman Praetor's guards who held me captive."

"Yes, the Romulan warbird in orbit is one of several commandeered by Remans who had escaped from Romulus when the Reman régime fell. It was considerate of you to return to Romulan space so we could carry out your prearranged, if somewhat delayed, execution." He shifted his disrupter rifle slightly preparing to fire.

At the sound of an energy weapon being fired, Picard flinched instinctively in expectation of the intense pain from a point blank disrupter blast only to realize that the Reman in front of him had been vaporized from behind. It was only after the remaining two Remans had swiftly met the same fate, did it dawn on him that the weapons fire had been a phaser and not a disrupter. The smoke cleared to reveal Vash kneeling in the doorway leading to the aft of the flyer with a Type-III phaser rifle.

"I hate uninvited guests," she groused, struggling to hold her composure. Getting upset after it was all over seemed silly but it was definitely preferable to getting hysterical during the situation.

Picard watched the internal struggle play across her countenance. He made his way over to her gently taking the large weapon from her grasp. He kept his tone light and calm, following the tenor set by her blithe comment. "You've spent too much time with Kathryn."

"I got this bad boy out for you." Vash replied, relinquishing the rifle to him. "I know Kathryn prefers it but I find it unwieldy."

"You obviously made quick work of the security protocols on the weapons locker," he observed dryly.

"True, the security protocols weren't as much of a challenge as I had anticipated. But to be completely honest, I had already taken the rifle out of the locker when the Remans boarded," she admitted with a slight shrug of her shoulders. At his questioning look, she added, "I wasn't sure how bad the damage was and thought we might have to abandon the Kirk. In interstellar field archaeology you never assume you're at the top of the food chain on any given planet."

Her line of reasoning impressed him. "An important safety tip. You're right about having to abandon the Kirk. She's going nowhere for the moment. She's salvageable, but needs extensive repairs to make her flight ready."

"Do you have a plan for how we're getting off this rock and past the warbird in orbit?" she prompted.

"Due to the atmosphere's interference with long range sensors and transporters, our late Reman friends would have had to down in some sort of small craft. I'm betting it was several of the newer, two-seater Scorpion fighters. We'll need to appropriate one —"

"You mean hotwire and steal one," she corrected him, amused. "Captain, it sounds like this plan of yours hinges greatly on your wife displaying some of her more nefarious talents."

"Can you do it?" he asked.

"If you can fly it, I can hotwire it," she boasted brazenly and then realized something. "Unfortunately, I doubt those three Remans were alone."

He checked the power supply on the rifle. "I'm assuming they weren't. If they came down in three fighters that leaves three Reman solidiers."

"Or they could have sent down two fighters and a troop transport and we walk into a trap facing a whole platoon plus one," she pointed out, apprehension replacing her usual bravado.

"That would be overdoing it a bit, like using an elephant gun on a canary," he quipped in an attempt to soothe her.

Her words came faster and faster, almost tumbling over each other, "I know what the Remans are, Jean-Luc, the Romulan Empire's shock troops, viciously aggressive and tenacious –"

"You let me worry about the tactical aspects of the situation and you just focus on being the accomplished cat burglar we both know you're capable of." Wanting to further distract her from thoughts of the Remans, he continued, "we'll need provisions –"

Vash walked over to a cabinet and pulled out a backpack already prepared. "You never know when the opportunity to explore a really interesting site will present itself and the best sites are never within easy reach of civilization, so it's best to always be prepared."

"That's my girl."

………………………………..

Picard squinted his eyes slightly while walking down the ramp of the aft hatch. "Bright."

Vash walked down the ramp behind him. "According to the shuttle's sensors, the landscape is a light-colored sedimentary rock similar to Earth's sandstone. As long as we travel during the heat and light of day, this system's sunlight reflecting so brightly off of the surface should put our Reman friends at a distinct disadvantage. The pallor of the Remans's skin is most likely an indication of regressive evolution from a life spent in darkness."

"Thank you, Professor, for that tactical assessment," he replied dryly.

Catching up to him just as he stepped off of the ramp, she slapped a khaki-colored boonie hat on his head with only slightly more force than necessary. "I would also tactically advise that you keep a protective covering on that legendary dome of yours. It will help with the glare."

She was right of course. Protective covering was advisable under these conditions; however his eyebrow shot up at her choice of words. "The glare?"

"You're squinting your eyes. What did you think I meant?" It suddenly dawned on Vash how her words could have been misconstrued and she chuckled, "ohh . . . oops. . . sorry."

"Indeed. I don't want to even imagine the reaction if I were to mention a less than perfect physical attribute of yours," he groused playfully.

"Are you implying I have physical attributes that you find less than perfect?" she retorted with feigned indignation. The impromptu verbal sparring match was a welcome diversion from the very real jeopardy that they were facing.

"I consider every inch of you to be absolute perfection." He took a second boonie hat from a hook on her pack and placed it on her head. He gave her behind a teasing swat and added, "and you damn well know it."

"Well played, Mon Capitaine."

"Do you have with you one of the tricorders Data specifically adapted for your archaeology fieldwork?" he asked.

"Uh-huh." She reached in her pack and pulled out a tricorder, handing it to him.

Working the control panel of the tricorder, he muttered, "I'm hoping the tighter bandwidth on this can cut through some of this atmospheric interference."

When she peered over his shoulder to see the tricorder readings, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What the hell is that?"

"A substance which, due to its use by the Romulan Empire, may help us find transportation; however, knowledge of this substance's existence is highly classified." He moved the tricorder out of her line of sight and continued to scan.

"Just like those nine years of your life between commanding the Stargazer and the Enterprise D," she ventured, still trying to sneak a peak at the tricorder. Catching the look he threw her, she added, "And don't bother with the party line. Someone scrubbed your official background for those nine years so well it sparkles."

"If that were indeed the case I would think it would give you cause to wonder about the man you married?"

"I've known from the very beginning the type of man you are -- a hero and a patriot." She placed a peck on his cheek relishing the plasma leak sigh that escaped him at her description. "Your possible participation in double-secret, black ops notwithstanding."

Sometimes this woman was far too astute for her own good. Steering the conversation toward some sort of plausible deniability, he inquired, "And what makes you think my life was anything more exciting than the official records indicate."

"Look around, Jean-Luc," she rolled her eyes. "After being shot down and boarded by enemy forces very intent on killing us, we are attempting to find and then steal a ship belonging to those very same enemy forces. The sad part of all of this is that it's not that far out of the ordinary for a day at the office – for either of us."

She had a valid point, but he couldn't very well acknowledge it. Instead, he pointed off into the distance. "The scorpion fighters are located eleven kilometers straight line that direction."

She found herself staring off at a mountain-like rock formation that was a about a kilometer from the Kirk "On the other side of that?"

"It's never easy, is it?" He locked in the location of the scorpion fighters and erased all classified data before handing her the tricorder.

"Of course, you hand this to me after you erased the interesting stuff," she huffed in not-quite-feigned disappointment. "According to these readings, we -- I mean you, Captain, have a decision to make. It will be about a 50 kilometer walk to go around the rock formation. Assuming we keep a good steady pace of about four kilometers an hour, we could make that in 12 ½ hours. Unfortunately, I estimate that we will lose our light in roughly eight hours, which will leave us in the dark and at a disadvantage to the Remans for over four hours. Our second choice is a natural crevice that, with the exception of some curves, leads straight through the mountain. The downside to Plan B is that in places it is barely a meter wide and it will most likely be quite dark, again sacrificing our one advantage over the Remans."

"But for only the two and a half hours or so that it would take to traverse the distance. We'll head through the crevice. It will leave us time to acquire our transportation under the cover of light," he determined, gesturing toward the pack that she was carrying. "If that's getting heavy I can—"

Vash snorted at him. "Believe it or not there was a time when I carried my own pack while in the field. You just focus on handling that rifle."

Making it to the crevice in the side of the rock face without incident, Picard stopped and reached out for the tricorder that Vash was already handing to him. He scowled slightly at the readings.

"Remans?" Vash whispered, peering into the dark.

"Not sure. The tricorder briefly picked up a lifeform signal but it was too fleeting to pinpoint a location."

"It could be from the other side of the crevice. Remans left to guard the scorpion fighters," she offered.

Picard shrugged. "Possibly. Of course it's just as possible that enemy forces are waiting in ambush inside the crevice and are shielding themselves from our scans somehow." He removed his hat and handed it to Vash along with the tricorder. "Take these, the hat will just be a nuisance inside the crevice."

After placing everything back into her pack, she watched him ready his phaser rifle. He paused for a moment, dark emotions flickering across his usually impassive visage. After all their years of marriage, Vash knew exactly what he was thinking. It was one thing for Jean-Luc to lead officers under his command into a potential combat situation, but it was another thing entirely to take his wife into such a situation. Abhorring the idea, he was searching one final time for a different solution; there wasn't one. She made sure her voice carried the brazen tone befitting her well-earned reputation. "I can take care of myself, Jean-Luc."

"A Starfleet officer should never knowingly place a civilian in a situation where there is a clear and present danger," he groused.

She wanted to avoid the whole civilian versus officer matter and tried a different angle. "Why don't you look at the bright side of this?"

"I fail to see any bright side to this," he replied a little more curtly than he intended.

"Once we extricate ourselves from these types of situations--and we always do--the sex is mind-blowing," she pointed out conspiratorially.

Deciding it would behoove him to ignore the comment, he asked, "Are you armed?"

"Like a Klingon bride on her wedding day." She couldn't help making the rather pithy response.

"A simple yes would have sufficed. Let's go." He led the way into the crevice.

Vash followed her husband's lead closely; after all, this sort of exercise was Jean-Luc's bailiwick. Her eyes slowly acclimated to the darkness the deeper they went into the fissure. Knowing that it was far too risky to take time to scan with the tricorder, she made mental notes about the details of their surroundings as they traveled. She had to continually resist the temptation to stop and examine things more closely, promising herself that she'd talk Jean-Luc into a future expedition to come back and explore more—assuming that he didn't blow it up in the interim. She kept her voice a whisper just loud enough for him to hear. "This crevice is a natural formation, but I'm seeing evidence of artificial modifications in different spots."

It was the first audible noise Vash had made in almost three kilometers and Picard had to admit he was impressed by her stealth. "Any idea by whom?"

"No, not …" she broke off holding up a finger. Off in the distance there was the faintest noise of a pebble falling. The silence was shattered by a disrupter blast and the rock-face a meter above Vash's head exploded.

"Take cover," Picard commanded, pushing Vash toward a nearby indentation in the crevice wall. He used his body to shield her from the disrupter fire as well as the rock debris falling around them but still managed to gauge the location of their attacker with that second shot. A lone Reman perched on a ledge approximately ninety meters high on the opposite wall far down the fissure from them. Standing in front of Vash, the lack of any discernible wind registered in the back of his mind. Mentally blocking out the next several blasts that exploded around them, Picard took careful aim and fired. As the Reman fell from his perch, Picard hissed, "damn it!"

"What? You hit him and that was one hell of a shot." Vash observed with amazement, peeking around his shoulder.

"I now know there are more of them and more importantly, they now know you're with me," he grumbled. Turning to face her, his tone softened and he reached out to brush the dust and debris from her hair. "Were you hit?"

"No, I'm fine," she assured him. "And we need to keep moving."

"Agreed," Picard replied. He continually scanned the high walls of the crevice for any signs of other snipers as they got underway once again.

Vash silently kept pace with her husband until he suddenly darted a few yards ahead and knelt down. She moved to catch up but stopped short when she realized that he was kneeling next to the grotesquely-mangled body of the Reman who had shot at them. "What are you doing?"

"Making damn sure he's dead and won't be attacking us from behind." The captain lifted the body slightly and reached beneath it.

"I can see he's dead from here. Arms and legs of humanoids don't usually lay at those particular angles and I'm pretty sure that's his grey matter on the rock face." She grimaced at the sickening sight. "What are you looking for?"

"This," he answered holding up what was left of the Reman's disrupter rifle. The weapon was as mangled as its late owner and he tossed it back down before walking over to her. "He only had the rifle; no other sidearm. If the rifle had been operational at all I would have taken it with us."

"To prevent another Reman from using it against us," she surmised.

"Exactly. Let's keep moving." Two kilometers further down, they came to the crevice's first curve. Signaling for Vash to stay directly behind him, Picard made his way around the bend and growled under his breath, "Merde!"

"What's wrong?" Vash whispered, moving up to peek over his shoulder. Her eyes went wide at the magnificent sight. The crevice widened to reveal an ancient city carved directly into the rockface. "It's stunningly beautiful, reminiscent of the ancient city of Petra in Jordan on Earth but this could be eons older. Jean-Luc, this site is a spectacular find."

The starship captain could hear the excitement is his wife's voice. If their situation wasn't difficult enough, now he had to curb Vash's almost insatiable curiosity in the face of an extremely tantalizing archaeological treasure. Turning on his heel, he forced her back several steps. He looked down at her, waiting until he was sure that he had her complete attention. His eyes locked with hers and his voice carried a firm, commanding tone, "It is also a spectacular place for our enemies to hide in ambush to kill us. No matter how fascinating these ruins are; this is not the time to explore them. We need to move quickly through this city. Every pillar, doorway, window, and archway could be a deadly hiding place."

"Understood, Captain." She glared up at him defiantly. "You blow this site up before I get a chance to do a thorough excavation and I swear you won't see me naked for a standard solar year."

"Little girl, you don't have to be naked for us to have sex," he retorted, stepping back before rechecking the settings on the phaser rifle. "And I don't for a moment think that you would relinquish one of the most effective weapons in your arsenal; however, the sentiment behind the warning is duly noted. Contrary to your oft-stated opinion, I don't go around intentionally blowing up sites in order to deny you your treasure hunts. I will also note, for the record, that you concurred with the decision to blow up the portal on Tama. I quote 'okay, fine, you win, blow it up'."

"I was simply bowing to the inevitable," she huffed.

With the phaser rifle held at the ready, in a voice that brooked no further argument he ordered, "let's go."

Although Vash was instinctively aware of the majesty of her surroundings, the effort it took to keep up with Jean-Luc's swift pace precluded even the most rudimentary exploration. He moved with the agility and speed of a jungle cat, his years of tactical experience combining with the natural speed that had made him an academy track star. They had traveled about 300 meters into the city when a disrupter blast came from behind, obliterating an elegant corbeil on a nearby building. Even as Jean-Luc bodily pulled her behind a column of a nearby colonnade, she groaned at the senseless destruction. She caught a glimpse of movement behind a pillar some distance back the way they'd come at almost the same instant that Jean-Luc fired back. The first shot hit the column that a Reman was using as cover, sending an explosive cascade of stone shards in every direction. The second shot from his phaser rifle hit the Reman but also destroyed the column bringing down the elaborately carved entablature above. Glaring at her husband, Vash hissed, "What's the matter, Napoleon, shooting the nose off of the sphinx wasn't enough for you?"

"You know damn well there is no evidence that Napoleonic troops destroyed the nose on the Sphinx. To continue with the analogy though, this Napoleon has no qualms about firing a quantum torpedo and destroying the whole damn Necropolis of Giza if I feel it is necessary to protect the life of my Joséphine," he countered firmly while unceremoniously hauling her with him. He picked up his pace through the city trying to use the columns of the colonnade as cover as much as possible.

Vash stewed silently during the swift trek through the city. Granted, Jean-Luc was incredibly sexy when he was being so gallantly protective, but the wholesale destruction of the antiquity around them was pissing her off. Suddenly, he stopped and she followed his gaze to a side street across from them. In a glance, she determined that the side street was an artificial modification to the crevice and she yearned to do a thorough excavation to unearth clues about the culture responsible for this treasure. Her archaeological curiosity was interrupted when she spotted what had captured Jean-Luc's attention. Three Reman warriors were standing at the far end of the side street. Halfway up the street was magnificent baldacchino; the immense stone canopy, like everything around them, was ornately carved with scenes from an alien history. Her gaze locked with her husband's and she instantly realized what he was planning. She breathed, "Jean-Luc, No. Don't you dare . . ."

"Stay here," he commanded, cutting off her protest. He stepped out into the open to intentionally catch the attention of the Remans. Standing with the rifle held calmly at his side, he watched the Remans begin to advance toward him. "Come on . . . that's it . . . just a little closer," he muttered to himself. Once all three Remans were beneath the solid stone canopy of the baldacchino, Picard swiftly raised his phaser rifle and fired eight blasts in rapid succession, destroying the structure's support columns. The massive stone feature collapsed with a thunderous crash that echoed through the city as it crushed the Remans beneath it. He knew he had just added to his litany of archaeological sins and expected a caustic verbal barrage from his wife; however, when he turned to face her, his blood turned to ice water.

Vash stood stock-still with her hands down at her sides acutely aware of the cold muzzle of the disrupter pressed against her temple. Silently emerging from the shadow of a nearby doorway, the Reman had abruptly grabbed her from behind and hauled her back against him before she'd had a chance to make any noise. Her eyes locked on her husband's face, his expression cold and impassive. With the lethal stare of a King Cobra, Jean-Luc's eyes only briefly flitted to hers before moving to stare past her at her attacker.

"Captain Picard, as you humans say, checkmate," the Reman emphasized the word mate and tightening his grip around his captive's shoulders.

Instantly recognizing the Reman Praetor's second in command, Picard addressed him in a voice of icy steel, "Viceroy."

"A title I held in a former life, a life you destroyed when you assisted the Romulan assassins that murdered my Praetor and ended our Reman regime," the Viceroy hissed.

Vash's heart hammered against her chest and she flattened her sweaty palms against the sides of her thighs. When her left palm brushed over one of the many utility loops on her field pants, she felt the smooth leather of her field knife's sheath.

"You survived," Picard noted while continuing to assess the situation. His mind was racing, looking for any opportunity to strike without putting Vash at further risk.

"Yes, I escaped but only to spend my time being hunted like an animal. It is a small pleasure, but I will live long enough to see you die a slow, painful death only after you have heard your wife's cries of anguish as she is tortured to death ringing in your ears," the Viceroy sneered maliciously.

Vash was waiting, alert for any opening and hoping that his testosterone-charged puffing and strutting would cause him to make a mistake. The Viceroy didn't disappoint her, the hand holding the disrupter to her temple relaxing slightly as he taunted Jean-Luc. She caught the movement of the disrupter away from her temple in her peripheral vision and didn't hesitate. Her right leg snapped up and back to drive her heel into the Reman's knee before stomping down hard on his foot. She threw her head back against his face and heard his lower jaw crack from the impact. His hold on her loosened and she dropped slightly, grabbing his wrist with her right hand while twisting out of his grip. Her left hand swung up and embedded the knife in his throat just above the collar of his armor. With a strangled cry the Reman released his grip on his disrupter, both of his hands clawing at the knife in his throat. Vash dropped to the ground and rolled away.

The instant that she was clear, Picard raised his rifle and fired vaporizing the Reman Viceroy. The starship captain took a deep breath. That had been close – too damn close. He reached out to help Vash up. "You all right?"

"I'm fine," she took a deep breath. "Rule number nine, never go anywhere without a knife." She took his hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet. Her manner was intentionally cavalier as much to bolster her own composure as it was to reassure Jean-Luc. Releasing his hand, she brushed the dust off of her trousers. Glancing at the spot where the Reman had been, she looked back at her husband and complained, "That was my best knife, custom made on Qo'nos."

"Once we return home I'll contact Ambassador Worf to arrange a replacement," he offered.

"Yes, you will." She picked up the disrupter that the Reman had dropped and hooked it to her belt.

Despite her bravado-driven nonchalance, it was still there, that awful twist in Picard's gut that started all those years ago when she had been imprisoned in the tower in Nottingham castle and reoccurred every time she was in danger. Q had been right back then, she was his Achilles' heel. He would always see her as his fair damsel-in-distress, whether attired in pink satin as Maid Marion or in dusty field gear. Right now he wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and never let go. Unfortunately at the moment that wasn't an option. His eyes searched hers. "Vash, --"

"Just hold that thought until later," she placed a finger gently on his lips cutting him off. Her heart skipped a beat at the intensity of emotion in his piercing eyes and in his voice. Turning away to continue heading through the ancient city, she murmured knowingly to herself, "Mind-blowing, it will be mind-blowing."

To Picard's great relief they made it the rest of the way though the ancient city and the crevice without further incident. Standing just inside the crevice's opening, he peered out into the bright daylight. "There are six scorpion fighters being guarded by three Reman soldiers. If you add the nine Remans we've already dealt with that accounts for all twelve that could have come down in the fighters."

"What's your plan?"

"I'm going to slip out of the crevice to make my way along the rock face heading away from the fighters, hopefully undetected. Once I feel I'm far enough away from you and the fighters I'll create a diversion with a full frontal assault drawing what's left of our Reman friends away from the fighters. As soon as the Reman's have focused their attention on me, I want you to head for the fighter second from the end on our left, the one that is sitting in the worst of the sun's glare. I know it's counterintuitive, but stay away from any shadows. Put your hair up into your hat, in this harsh light your light colored field clothing should blend into the surrounding landscape. Once you've reached the fighter you'll need to work fast, your clothes will be a stark contrast to the darker metal of the ship," he instructed while checking the settings on his rifle.

She took out her hat and sweeping her hair up into it she put it on. "I never again want to hear you tell me I'm the one who is out of my –"

"I'm not finished," he cut her off with a firm command tone. "If something should happen to me, you are to take off. Set course for Federation space, engage the autopilot and the cloak."

"The treaty –"

"To hell with the treaty, you use the damn cloak and get back to Federation space. Once there issue a distress call on the priority one channel using my authorization codes. And yes, I'm fully aware that you know them. Tell Admiral Nechayev exactly what happened here."

"All right," she nodded casting her eyes downward and swallowed hard, not wanting to think about the unthinkable.

"And Vash,"

"Yes," she forced herself to meet his gaze.

"Je t'aime, ma chere," he whispered, claiming her lips in a brief impassioned kiss.

"Je t'aime, Jean-Luc," she replied softly. He silently slipped away, leaving her with nothing to do but watch the Reman guards and wait for the sound of weapons fire. The long minutes seem to stretch into hours. Suddenly the silence was broken by phaser fire followed by disrupter fire. All three guards moved from their post toward Jean-Luc's position.

Vash took off running toward the decided-upon scorpion fighter. She fiercely fought down the urge to look in Jean-Luc's direction knowing that any delay could cost them their lives. Reaching the fighter, she quickly climbed up to the canopy and breathed a sigh of relief to discover that the locking mechanism was fairly standard. The energy blasts from the weapons faded into background noise as she focused on opening the canopy. She needed to make sure she didn't damage the lock as they would need it in working order to make their escape. She couldn't help the slight smile when she heard the woosh of the air seal break and the canopy began to rise.

"Get in and shut the canopy!" Picard shouted chasing after the last remaining Reman. The final guard must have noticed the canopy open and had turned to head back toward the fighters.

Vash heard Jean-Luc's warning just as a disrupter bolt hit the side of the fighter near her foot. Jumping into the front seat she desperately scanned the control panel searching for the correct button. Random energy bolts flew past her, forcing her to slouch as far down in the seat as possible. Finally finding the correct button, she slammed her hand down on it and urged the canopy to come down faster. As the canopy locked into place, she closed her eyes and let out a deep breath. The entire fighter lurched and she opened her eyes to see Jean-Luc and the Reman guard engaged in close quarters, hand to hand combat at the nose of the fighter, using their rifles more like one would expect to use a Klingon bat'leth. She winced as Jean-Luc took a blow to the jaw. He staggered slightly before surging up with an answering attack on the Reman. She did her best to ignore the battle while working to hotwire the fighter's systems. She managed to bring the fighter's systems online and her eyes fell on the fighter's disrupter controls. Looking up, she realized the disrupters were located above the canopy. 'For once in your life, Jean-Luc, take a dive during a fight,' she thought to herself while powering up the disrupters. She waited until Jean-Luc's eyes met hers and she mouthed, "Get down!"

Picard was fairly sure he had understood what Vash was telling him. However, the momentary distraction had given his Reman opponent enough of an opening to land a particularly nasty blow to the captain's midsection sending him sprawling onto the ground. The Reman was aiming his rifle when a blast from the fighter's disrupter vaporized him from behind. Feeling the searing heat from the energy beam prickle against his face, Picard quickly turned his head away muttering, "Mon Dieu, woman."

Getting to his feet, Picard noticed his wife's 'problem solved' smirk. He climbed up onto the fighter and gave two taps to the canopy. He waited patiently for the canopy to open before starting to speak. "I have two questions, chere."

"Yes, dear," she cooed, gazing up at him through her lashes.

"Are you planning on flying?" he gestured to where she sat in the front seat.

"No. I wouldn't dream of it," she chuckled while moving to the back seat. Settling herself in, she inquired sweetly, "And your other question?"

"Am I missing an eyebrow?"

…………………………………………

Vash was pulled back into her seat as the fighter's inertial dampeners worked to compensate for steep climb to the outermost layers of the atmosphere. She had just spotted the Romulan warbird in the distance when a disrupter blast shook the ship. "What was it you said? 'To hell with the treaty, use the damn cloak'."

"The cloak won't work in the atmosphere. We're just going to have to force our way past that warbird and into open space," Picard replied, beginning evasive maneuvers. Outside the planet's atmosphere the warbird shadowed his movements. Knowing he had no alternative but to take the fighter right down the throat of the larger ship to get past her, the captain set a heading straight out of the atmosphere and toward the warbird. Suddenly, a second warbird decloaked right overtop of the small fighter and destroyed the first warbird in a hail of disrupter fire. The fighter shook with the thunk of a tractor beam locking on.

"This is either our salvation or we've gone from the frying pan into the fire," Vash muttered, physical and emotional exhaustion dampening down any rising panic.

The fighter's communication system crackled, coming to life showing the bridge of the warbird. "Captain and Professor Picard, this is Commander Tomalak."

"Tomalak commanded the ship that the Reman Praetor traveled on, " Picard grumbled grimly.

"But, Tomalak isn't a Reman himself and I'm not seeing any Remans on the bridge of that ship," Vash noted, not sounding overly optimistic herself.

The captain opened the channel, "this is Picard."

"Ah, Captain Picard, I'm delighted to find you and your wife unharmed. When we realized that your vessel had been intercepted by one of the warbirds still commanded by Remans, we had feared the worst. You seem to have more lives than, oh what is the creature on your planet that is fabled to have nine lives – a duck?" the Romulan commander's tone dripped with his usual polite mendaciousness.

"A cat," Vash wearily supplied the correct animal.

"A cat; thank you, Professor Picard," Tomalak continued, "Captain, the Federation has been contacted about salvaging the Kirk, but it will take time for Federation vessels to arrive. Considering that there may be more Reman-controlled warbirds in the area, allow me to offer you and your charming wife safe passage to Romulus aboard my ship."

"Considering our past history, Commander, you'll forgive me if I don't completely trust in the sincerity of your offer," the captain replied.

"I suspected you wouldn't." Tomalak's demeanor changed to one of ruthless candor "Considering the recent political changes on Romulus, destroying the Reman warbird and safely delivering you and your wife would be the best way to show my allegiance to the Empire, thereby assuring that my own rank and command do not end up as unfortunate victims of the Reman regime."

Vash leaned forward laying a hand on her husband's shoulder, "It has been my experience that given a situation where you can trust nothing, you can always trust in blatant self-interest."

"Very insightful, my dear." Tomalak commended her. "I see your wife's reputation for being as cunning as she is beautiful is well earned, Picard. She must be quite an asset to you."

Not wishing to discuss the many assets Vash possessed, Picard ignored the comment. "We accept your offer of passage, Commander."

"Very well. Prepare the fighter for docking and we'll bring you aboard. Tomalak out."

Picard closed the channel and readied the fighter for docking. Deciding to nip a potential issue in the bud, he advised his wife, "Vash, I do not consider traveling aboard Tomalak's warbird as having extricated ourselves from this situation."

"Damn, well so much for crossing off that fantasy about a night of wild sex on a Romulan warbird from my list," Vash deadpanned. His expression of shocked horror as he stared over his shoulder at her was one of the best reactions she'd ever gotten from him. Delighted, Vash giggled, "it is incredibly gratifying to know that after all these years I can still put that look on your face."

……………………………………………….

It was a beautiful day in the Romulan capital city. Vash could hear several different kinds of local songbirds as she stood on the veranda of the quarters assigned to Jean-Luc and her. The past week had flown by quickly with Jean-Luc engaged in complex negotiations while she had immersed herself in Romulan archaeology. She had just returned to their quarters after having spent the entire morning and most of the afternoon helping a team of Romulan archaeologists plan the first joint Federation/Romulan archaeological expedition, an excavation of the ancient stone city she and Jean-Luc had stumbled upon.

"Vash," Picard called out as he entered the quarters.

"I'm out here," she replied turning just in time to see him walk onto the veranda. Sitting down at the veranda's table, she added, "it's just too beautiful to sit inside. So, how was your day?"

"Splendid actually. The Romulan government has agreed to allow our deep space expedition toward the Delta Quadrant to travel through Romulan space. They will also provide a warbird to travel along with us across their territory to help fend off any Reman attacks. Moreover, a small group of Romulan civilian scientists will be joining our expedition. These are the applications for the Romulan scientists who are interested in the opportunity. As the commander of the expedition the final decision on who goes is mine." He sat down opposite from her placing the large pile of PADDs he had been carrying on the table.

"Captain, I assume you're planning to ask the different heads of the science departments for their opinions?" She eyed the pile of PADDs.

"Yes, Professor. You, as well as the rest of the science department heads, will have considerable input," he chuckled.

She picked out a half dozen PADDs to look over. "Are these the candidates interested in the spots in the archaeology department?"

"Yes," he nodded. Watching her read over the PADDs, he inquired playfully, "Do you have some opinions, Professor Picard?"

"Well, since you asked, Professor Latona Parcae and Professor Somnus Parcae. They are a husband and wife team. They are good. They are very, very good. I've been working closely with them on the joint Federation/Romulan archaeological excavation of the ancient stone city. They will be leading the Romulan team." She handed him two of the PADDs.

"And just who is heading up Federation team on this joint Federation/Romulan archaeological excavation?" he prompted although he was fairly sure he already knew the answer.

"Why me, of course. After all, Jean-Luc it was my find," she answered blithely.

"Of course. When were you planning on –" He was cut off by the sound of the quarter's communication system. Getting up, he walked back into the quarters and activated the panel on the wall. The face of one of their Romulan guides appeared on screen.

"Captain, the Federation starship Voluspa has just entered orbit and Captain Janeway has asked to speak with you."

"Thank you. Could you send it here?" The captain replied.

"Of course, Captain. Please hold for Captain Janeway." The Romulan's face was replaced by Captain Janeway sitting at her readyroom desk.

"Kathryn, it's good to see you." Picard smiled at his fellow ship captain.

"Hello, Jean-Luc. I heard you could use a lift. I thought you'd like to know Mr. Paris managed to repair enough of the Kirk's systems to fly her onto one of my shuttlebays where he is completing repairs. Considering the extensive damage done to the Kirk, Tom did seem rather surprised to find it was you and not Commander Chakotay who was flying her at the time." Janeway couldn't help passing on the good-natured jibe.

"Any landing you walk away from is a good landing," Picard retorted, hearing Vash's soft laugh as she stepped up behind him.

"True," Janeway conceded before turning her attention to Vash. "Professor Picard, you'll be pleased to hear that Starfleet Command and the Archeology council have officially agreed to your request. The Voluspa will transport you and your team to the site and will remain there as support for the duration of the two week excavation."

"Yes," Vash crowed. "Thank you, Kathryn."

Janeway sat forward leaning closer to the screen. "Vash, I'm going to be hanging nose to nose with a Romulan warbird for two weeks."

Vash also leaned in her voice taking on a conspiratorial tone, "will five pounds of that special blend gourmet Columbian coffee make it worth your while?"

"That should take care of it," Janeway teased, matching the tone. Sitting back, she continued, "the head of my archaeology department wanted to speak with you."

"Hello, Professor," Barbara Caldwell a pretty brunette reminiscent of a younger Vash greeted her.

"Barbara, we've got a lot of work to do," Vash instructed her former assistant. "I'll send you everything I've managed to gather up."

"Karita's already sent me everything you've sent her." Caldwell advised referring to Vash's current assistant. "All of our preparations for the dig are already under way, all we'll need is the latest things you've worked on with the Romulan team."

"Well done. Barbara, wait until you see this place –"

"Ladies," Picard cut off his excited wife before she could really get going. "There are other considerations."

"It's all right, Jean-Luc. My security team has already paired up with a Romulan team and done a complete sweep of the site. And might I add, you left quite a mess." Janeway interjected with a smile.

"See, I can't take him anywhere," Vash quipped. "Barbara, we'll finish up preparations tomorrow morning."

"The usual 0800 works for me," Caldwell replied.

"We'll beam you aboard in two hours?" Janeway offered.

"Acknowledged and thank you, Kathryn." Picard nodded.

"You're welcome, Janeway out."

Once the channel was closed, Picard turned to his wife. "You're actually going to let this go until tomorrow morning instead of racing to the archaeology lab as soon as we beam aboard?"

Things had been incredibly hectic once they had reached Romulus and there had been little time for just the two of them. Vash leisurely traced his rank pips with her index finger. "The Voluspa is a Federation starship and therefore once we beam aboard her we will officially be back on Federation territory, correct?"

"That is correct." Reaching up, he swiftly captured her hand in his to still her teasing. He knew she did that intentionally, just for the sheer purpose of wreaking havoc on his senses and it always did.

Gazing up at him through her lashes she purred only two words in a seductive whisper, "mind blowing."

***FINIS***


End file.
